


Proper Trouble

by infidi



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fields of Trenzalore, Pregnancy, Sex in a TARDIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infidi/pseuds/infidi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-The Name of The Doctor.<br/>The night after Trenzalore everything changed for the Doctor and Clara, now it's continuing too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay, I have not seen The Name of the Doctor and the following are NOT SPOILERS, but what I choose to believe/think will happen. 
> 
> Clara sacrifies herself to save the Doctor by becoming part of his timeline, meaning that there will be billions of versions her everywhere from the 1st Doctor to the 13th, and she won't know him but she'll feel drawn to him and want to help him (like Oswin/Victorian!Clara). So Clara now knows that about her and the Doctor knows. He saves this modern Clara and keeps her with him and this takes place the night before they run into 10/Rose.
> 
> ugh, I just wanted to write some of my emotions because I ship this so very much and I think eleven is in love with her and just yeah. I do not want her to get knocked up on the show though, just wanted angst for this o/s.

“I’m late.”

“Nonsense. Tell me when and where, I’ll get you there right on time.” The Doctor clasped his hands together, spinning about the console. “I could get you there a week early! Have a turn about that park downtown, I heard-“

He’s been doing that a lot recently. 

He has always rambled before, but now it’s almost cautious calculated gibberish. Like if he keeps talking then she won’t get the chance to speak and if she can’t speak then they can’t talk about what happened the night after Trenzalore. He’s been doing this for weeks. First that muddled business with his old regeneration and Rose was enough to make her head spin and definitely put the breaks on whatever they had started. Yet, that all had been resolved days ago and now here he was dragging her along on whirlwind adventures, distracting her at every turn.

If she opened her mouth, he put a 12th century Tibetan plum in it and the one time she tried to hold his hand he pulled her onto the Kelekropa Galaxy ZYX rollercoaster, the craziest ride west of The Medusa Cascade, that caused her to be ill for an entire week after.

She wasn’t even sure how it happened; well she knew how it happened- she’d never forget. What she wasn’t sure of was why he let it happen. Did he feel the same way she did or did he do this with all the girls that wandered into his snog box? If Rose was any indication, then the answer was yes.

She had been scared, more scared then she ever thought possible that night. Clara Oswald, the impossible girl, finally figured out why the Doctor and her were meant to each other. It was overwhelmingly sad to think about all those versions of her, out there alone wandering lost. Why was she so lucky to have found him and stay this way? She was alive and traveling with the Doctor, but for how long? Those were the thought and the emotions that triggered her that night to go to him.

She found him sitting with his face in his hands. He was so defeated; she had never seen him look quite so sad. She knelt down next to him and brought her arms around him and not startled in the least he returned the hug. Quietly they confessed, whispering their fears of the others safety and care. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, just in good faith of a friend, but the dark look of hunger and desperation in his eyes caused her to meet his mouth. 

They shared heavy and long heated kisses, shedding their layers as he laid her down on the floor beneath the console. There were no declarations of love or professions of how long this had been desired, and it was clear that it had been desired. No, this was purely desperate reassurance that they had survived and would survive anyone and anything. He took her there on the floor, not too rough, but not gentle either – it was exactly what they needed. Few words were shared between them except the occasional mad muttered of the Doctor’s thoughts against Clara’s temple and Clara’s gasp of his name, his true name.

Now weeks later, Clara finds herself watching him more carefully than ever. Studying him like she now knows he did to her when they first met. She doesn’t regret what happened between the two of them, but she’s more confused now than ever. What is she to him? A companion? His savior? Lover? 

“You’re not even listening!” The Doctor complains, breaking her train of thought. He hops down the steps, swings on the railing and lands right in front of her. Smiling he looks her in the eyes, hunching over. “Now, where are we going?”

“Doctor, I believe we’re in proper trouble.” She replies, her voice trailing off as she tries to swallow down this nervous feeling. She feels like there is a wave of emotions beneath her. The Doctor sobers up, taking in her demeanor.

“Us? Trouble? Never.” He jokes, cupping her face in his hands and tilting her head around getting a good look at her. She places her hands over his, sliding them off her face and taking a step back. She tries not to see the hurt look on his face as he studies her from that distance. “Clara?”

“The night after Trenzalore, when we-”

“Clara!” The Doctor chides her like he’s scolding a child and perhaps to him she is.

“Why won’t you talk about it?” She shouts, her emotions peak and they bubble over. This is so unlike her, to be like this. She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until she’s swiping at her eyes to clear her vision. “Do you regret it?”

“Oh, my Clara.” He sighs, wrapping her in his arms. Cradling her head against his chest cooing her, trying to calm down her abrupt hysteria. “How could I regret you?”

He strokes her hair and arm softly as she silently cries into his jacket. “Is that all that’s been bothering you?”

“I think.” The Doctor relaxes, pressing a kiss against her temple.

“I think I’m pregnant.” His grip tightens on her arm so suddenly that she flinches away from him.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, letting go of her, shaking his head. He shakes his arms out, flexing his fingers rigorously. He takes his sonic out and waves it about her frantically and then studies it with a tight face. Clara watches, eyes dry and confused.

“Doctor, did you hear me? I said, I think that I’m-“

“Shhh.” The Doctor cups her face against, leaning his forehead against her closing his eyes. Anguish and awe clouding every feature on his face. “Oh Clara, my Clara. We are in proper trouble indeed.” 

He kisses her, not her forehead like she was expecting, but a quick peck on the corner of her mouth and then he is running and spinning around the console pulling levers and causing the TARDIS to lurch from side to side. Clara latches onto the other side of the console, holding on as they are tossed about. The Doctor grabs the monitor from swinging about, frowns, then pushes a couple knobs around.

“Where are we going?” She yells over the hum of the TARDIS.

“A friend. It’s time that you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Doctor, you’re not making any sense. Where are we going?”

“Gallifrey.”


End file.
